


Syllabary

by Beek_100



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: AU- Artists, Adoption, Allergic reaction, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Anal Sex, Angst and Fluff, Anniversary, Babies, Cooking, Crack, Established Relationship, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fights, Fisting, Flirting, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, Loss, M/M, Marriage, Meet-Cutes, Mental Health Issues, Misunderstandings, New Parents, OCD, OMC - Freeform, Orgasm Denial, Panic Attacks, Pets, Pranks, Roommates, Weddings, hand-holding, oneshots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:13:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 18,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22338322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beek_100/pseuds/Beek_100
Summary: A collection of works in alphabetical order
Relationships: Daryl Dixon/Jesus
Comments: 49
Kudos: 86





	1. Art

Paul surreptitiously wiped his sweaty palms on his legs as he passed a couple examining his work. He strained to hear their murmured conversation as he hovered nearby.

“…very visceral, the colours tell a story. Very intense mix of realism and surrealism”

“Hmm, and the brush strokes invoke a sense of longing”

Paul frowned and looked at the painting with them- he’d called it ‘Fields’ and it was self-explanatory, he thought. It was a still life painting like all the others, of the fields in Georgia when he’d visited his friend, Maggie. Only he’d incorporated the colours of the rainbow in the sunset, because he couldn’t resist.

He snorted and quickly moved on. He knew he shouldn’t be ungrateful for any feedback on his work, but the artsy, snobby clientele of the museum he was exhibiting at were beginning to wear thin on his nerves.

As he rounded a pillar into the next exhibit, he stopped dead. Before him stood a proud collection of photography that captured such a personal view of the world, he almost felt he shouldn’t be looking.

The photographer had managed to find the exquisiteness in each macabre subject of his photos. Each one was colourless and Paul found himself transfixed as he examined every last one for any detail he may have missed on the first viewing.

“Pretty intense, huh?” A voice to his right asked. He turned to find a pair of piercing blue eyes hidden somewhat behind shaggy brown hair boring into him; it only took a moment for Paul to notice how gorgeous he was, in spite of the self-conscious expression on his face.

“Yeah, but, they’re stunning, too. A beauty within the ugly kind of thing, you know?”

“Huh. Think you’re the first person to get it straight away”

Paul blinked.

“Are you the photographer?”

“Heh, guilty. Daryl Dixon”, he replied and held out a hand that Paul happily shook.

“Hi! I’m Paul Rovia, pleasure to meet you! I’m one of the exhibitors here, too. My stuff’s over there, all still life paintings”

“Oh yeah, I was checkin’ that out before, real good stuff, love how ya got what was real and added yer own twist to it, with the colours…unlike mine”, he laughed.

“Thanks! Your stuff is beautiful- although I feel like I’m looking into your private life when I look at them”

“Wouldn’t mind that”, he heard Daryl mutter under his breath as he ran a hand through his hair. He blushed and bit his lip to stop a smile.

A thought came to him and he blurted it out before he could stop it.

“There’s a coffee shop down the hall, wanna go and grab a cup with me?”

Daryl’s wide eyes met his as he nodded shyly. He gestured for Paul to go first and the two walked in tandem to the exit.

“We can play ‘ _Who’s the Snobbiest?_ ’” Paul suggested. He grinned when the other man laughed out loud.

“You’re on”

*****


	2. Baking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paul has a kitchen mishap

The nurse treating him levelled him with an unimpressed stare.

“You gave yourself a second degree burn…making a birthday cake?” She asked, raising an eyebrow.

Paul’s blush deepened as he felt Daryl’s shoulder begin to shake from next to him. He slyly elbowed him before he answered.

“ _Technically,_ I was trying to make a sugar decoration, and forgot how hot boiling sugar would be”

“Oh, right, silly me, sorry”, she said sarcastically, smirking when Daryl outright laughed.

Paul sighed and fidgeted as she applied the last of the burn cream to his numb palm; once done, she patted his forearm and stood.

“Happens to the best of us. Leave that on there for five minutes, don’t _touch_ it, and I’ll be back to wrap it up”

Once she’d left, Paul rounded on his still-smirking partner and slapped him on the arm with his good hand.

“Sorry, sorry! Can’t help it, ya just looked so embarrassed”

“This is the thanks I get for making you a birthday cake?”

“Paul, I told ya, I don’t _need_ a—“

“I know, but you said you’d never had a homemade cake, so…”

Daryl’s face softened. He stroked a hand through Paul’s hair.

“Thanks, baby. Next time, just stick to frostin’- don’t need no sugar decoration”

“I was trying to make a set of angel wings to match your vest, if you must know”

“Ya couldn’a done that in frostin’?”

Paul paused, causing the older man to begin laughing again; he threw an arm around Paul’s shoulders.

“Don’t worry- when we’re done here, we’ll go home and eat the parts of the cake ya didn’t burn ya skin off onto- it’ll taste fine without the sugar wings, m’sure”

“And you won’t spend the rest of the night making fun of me?”

“Promise”

“Good”

“…can’t promise for the others, though”

“Who did you tell?”

Daryl met his eyes solemnly.

“Babe…I told everyone”

Paul groaned and put his face into his uninjured hand as the birthday boy cackled beside him.

*****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments welcome! :)


	3. Celebration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A revelatory celebration

“… _Happy birthday to youuuu!”_ The out of tune group finished off the song as Hershel gave a gummy grin and clapped his hands.

The circle of guests surrounding him joined in as Maggie and Glenn blew out the candle. Paul leaned his weight against Daryl, who slid an arm around his waist; both men were grinning hard as they watched their godson take his first bite of cake.

“Aww, you guys look so cute and happy!” Tara cooed from the corner, “When are you two gonna take the plunge and get yourselves a kid?”

Both men tensed momentarily before Paul quickly recovered.

“At some point, I expect. Stop being so nosy, Tara, jeez”, he joked.

“Yeah, T, when are you guys gonna adopt?” Daryl countered.

The two of them laughed as Tara and Denise both sputtered for a comeback and failed.

***

As Daryl pulled their car onto the driveway later that night, he shut off the engine and turned to Paul with a face-splitting grin and glossy eyes.

“Dunno how we went the whole party without sayin’ anythin’”

“I know”, Paul gushed back, grabbing Daryl’s hand, “I can’t believe we’re gonna be Dads in less than a month”

“We’ll tell everyone next week, when it ain’t Hersel’s first birthday”

“I love you”

“I love ya too”

*****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments welcome! :)


	4. Debate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fight for a wedding venue

Daryl and Paul stared at each other from across the table, which was adorned with endless pamphlets and information pages. The sun had nearly set and both men had been worn down from hours of conversation and attempts at compromise. Both had had enough.

“I’m telling you, Barrington House is the best choice for our venue”, Paul insisted. Daryl sighed.

“I ain’t gettin’ married in some fancy country manor, Paul. ‘Sides, Kingdom Reception Hall includes the deposit in the price”, he argued.

“The bar at Barrington is cheaper”

“People can actually find Kingdom without two GPS’ and followin’ the stars”

“Barrington supplies its own DJ”

“Kingdom supplies all the food, ain’t no need to get a caterer”

They stared each other out stubbornly, neither willing to budge an inch.

“We’re not going to agree on this”

“Nah, don’t think so”

Daryl pinched the bridge of his nose while Paul attempted to crack the tension from his neck and shoulders.

An idea came to him.

“How about this? We ask Rick and Maggie, get their opinions? They are the best man and maid of honour, after all”, he suggested.

“They could be biased and choose based on which one of us it is”

“Then we don’t tell them- we just send them both the links for them and let them choose blind”

Daryl tilted his head, considering.

“Okay, fine”

Once the messages were sent, they set about clearing the table and trying not to think about it until Daryl’s phone buzzed. He huffed and read out Rick’s response in an unimpressed tone.

“’ _Both look great’_ ”, he muttered. They both shook their heads and laughed.

“Well, guess we’re goin’ to Barrington”

“Maggie hasn’t responded to me yet”

“Yeah, but she ain’t gonna choose Kingdom, she'll love Barrington”

Paul looked at his fiancé’s defeated face and the slump in his shoulders and set his own as he grabbed his phone. He dialled Maggie’s number as Daryl watched, frowning.

“Hey, Mags…You know that text I just sent? Yeah, forget it….yeah, Daryl doesn’t like it, so we’re not gonna go for it”, he said into the receiver.

“But ya don’t like Kingdom!” Daryl protested. Paul covered the phone as he spoke to him.

“Then we’ll find somewhere that we’re both happy with”

“We’ve looked at every venue in Atlanta!”

Maggie’s muffled voice shrilled through the speaker Paul had covered. He put it on loudspeaker.

“Sorry, Mags, say again?”

“ _I said, what about my Daddy’s farm? He’s more’n happy for ya to use it to host your weddin’. He told me when ya got engaged, in case any venues had an issue with yours bein’ a gay weddin’_ ”, she offered.

The two men looked at each other and Paul could read the relief mirrored on his fiancé’s face. They nodded and smiled at the compromise they’d finally reached.

“That would be amazing, Mags”

*****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments welcome! :)


	5. Enemies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neighbours at war

A loud pounding on the front door jolted Paul out of his rhythm. With a sigh, he stood from the rowing machine and stretched as he simultaneously paused his music, before making his way to his noisy visitor.

 _Three guesses who it is,_ he thought, as he unlocked the latch. And sure enough…

“Fuck’s sake, man, its midnight! ‘M tryin’ to sleep, some of us have work at normal hours”

 _Daryl._ The- _admittedly gorgeous_ \- bane of Paul’s once-peaceful life. He had moved into the building just a few weeks after Paul, and the petty problems had begun almost immediately. If it wasn’t Paul slamming his door when he got home late from work, then it was the noise Daryl’s bike made when he started it up at 7am on a Sunday when he went for his weekly ride with his buddies. It had been one thing after another for nearly six months.

“Hello, Daryl, lovely to see you on my doorstep for the third time this week”

“Can it, smartass. Just turn your fuckin’ music down”

“I only turned it up to drown out the sounds your dog has been making for the last hour”

“Ain’t her fault, the people round the back were settin’ off fireworks and she got nervous”

“Then why don’t you go and knock on their door and ask them to be quiet?”

“She’s just a dog, asshole, couldn’t ya have just ignored it? Or put headphones in or summin?”

“You mean like last week, when she howled so loud at 4 in the morning that I couldn’t get to sleep after a 10 hour shift? Pretty sure there weren’t fireworks going off that day. And, if you must know, my headphones have gone missing”

“Just keep ya fuckin’ music turned down or we’re gonna have a problem”, Daryl groused before he turned to go back to his own apartment.

“You mean before now, we _didn’t_ have a problem?” Paul called after him in sarcastic shock, smirking when he heard the other man scoff before his door slammed shut.

*****

Paul didn’t have to see his neighbour for a few days after that, and he found his headphones stuffed down the back of his couch, so the noise complaints had stopped. It felt like there was a tentative peace between them. For a little while.

It was Saturday, the only day of the week that Paul could spend functioning like a normal person and be awake during daylight hours. As he pulled into the building parking lot, he groaned at the lack of spaces; the residents had all been begging the building manager to make assigned spots for them, but had been unsuccessful. Paul had had to park at least three streets away many times in the past.

Reaching the far end of the lot, he spotted a small gap that was the perfect size for his car; as he turned around and prepared to park, he noticed the Georgia State bumper sticker on the truck behind it and smirked…

Paul juggled his grocery bags to balance them on his arms as he opened the door to the apartment building with his foot. He glanced back at the half-inch distance he’d left between his and Daryl’s vehicles and sniggered to himself. There was barely a foot between the truck and the wall behind it, and the other man would have fun with that.

He knew it was petty, but couldn’t bring himself to care.

*****

“Daryl Dixon! Get your ass out here, now!”

Paul panted with rage as he slammed his fist into Daryl’s door again. He could hear his dog going crazy on the other side and raised his other fist ready to join the first when it swung open.

“Jesus Christ, you tryna get someone to call the cops on ya?”

“Why the _fuck_ is there a clamp on one of my tyres?”

“Ohhh, ya mean the tyres of the car that ya blocked me in with? No idea”

“You do realise that private clamping is illegal? What’s stopping me from calling the cops on _you_?”

“There ain’t no cameras in the lot, how ya gonna prove it was me?”

Paul grit his teeth in an effort to stop from snapping and punching the older man.

“Look, just take the damn clamp off, or I can’t promise nothing is going to happen to your truck”

“You do anythin’ to my truck and I’ll definitely have the fuckin’ cops on ya faster than ya can blink”

“There are no cameras in the lot, how’re you gonna prove it was me?” Paul fired Daryl’s own words back at him.

The other man pushed forward until they were nose to nose, both their fists clenched and ready. A voice from the other end of the hall shook them apart.

“Oh, for the love of God, will you two just kiss already?” Their neighbour, Glenn, called down to them, exasperated.

“What?” Paul and Daryl asked in unison.

“You two have been playing this cat and mouse, back and forth, pulling-each-others-pigtails game for _six months_. I’ve never seen so much sexual tension between two people in all my life”

Both men simply blinked at him.

“Neither of you noticed how perfect you are for each other? And people say I’m clueless”

With that, Glenn shook his head and disappeared into his apartment.

The silence he left behind was deafening and uncomfortable. Neither Paul nor Daryl could look at one another without blushing. Eventually, Paul backed away awkwardly.

“I’m uh, gonna go…just, take the clamp off, leave it on, whatever, I don’t care”, he rambled before escaping to the safety of his home.

*****

An hour later, Paul was laid on his couch, replaying what Glenn had said in the hall. He could admit, he found Daryl attractive, but he got on his nerves so much that Paul had never considered there could ever be something there.

Only, now he was.

Was it possible that their endless fights and pissing contests had really been the result of an underlying connection? He had no idea if the older man was even gay, but he didn’t hold out much hope.

A timid knock on the door shook him from his thoughts and, with a sigh, he went to open it.

When he found a shy, nervous Daryl on the other side, he froze. His eyes dropped to Daryl’s dirty, blackened hands and he raised an eyebrow.

“Took the clamp off”, he mumbled. He crossed his arms- _those muscly, striking arms-_ and hid them under his armpits.

“Oh….thank you. That, um, that means a lot”, Paul stuttered, shocked.

“Yeah. So, um, ‘bout earlier with the clamp and the other day with ya music…m’sorry. I overreacted and was bein’ an asshole, reckon I’ve been one since I moved in”

“If you have, then I definitely have- I shouldn’t have blocked you in earlier, it was petty. And the music the other night was unacceptable, I’m sorry”

“Look, can we just agree we both been petty dicks to each other and just, I dunno… try not to be from now on?”

Paul gave a wry smile and nodded. They stood in silence for a moment before Daryl cleared his throat.

“You….wanna come to my place for a beer or somethin’? Ya can finally meet the dog ya like to complain about so much”

Paul blushed at the offer and tried to hide it with a laugh.

“Sure, sounds good. What’s her name, anyway? Never heard you call her by anything”

“Her name’s Dog”

“…You’re kidding me, right?”

*****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments welcome! :)


	6. Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An important conversation

Daryl desperately tried to catch his breath as Paul rolled off of him. They were both drenched in sweat and shared identical blissful, post-orgasm smiles.

“Fuck me”, Paul huffed out.

“Jus’ did”, Daryl panted back.

Paul backhanded his bare chest as they both giggled like teenagers.

“Hell of a way to celebrate our anniversary”, Daryl said. He grabbed the hand Paul had left on his chest and waved their fingers together. 

“Oh yeah. Don’t think I can do that position again for a while, though”

Daryl raised Paul’s hand to his lips and kissed it.

He couldn’t remember ever being this happy.

Of course Paul, ever the tactful one, had to ruin the moment.

“I’ve never celebrated a one year anniversary before- did we do it right?” He joked.

“I guess? Dunno why you’re askin’ me, you’re the first relationship I’ve had”

“Well, this is the first one I’ve been in that’s made it past a couple of months. By now, I’d have got bored and moved onto the next person four times over”

The post-sex heat was replaced by a chilling coldness that spread through Daryl’s chest as he replayed Paul’s words in his mind.

_I’d have got bored and moved onto the next person four times over_.

_ Got bored and moved on. _

Paul caught on quickly to the fact that he’d made a mistake when the grip Daryl has on his hand became vice-like.

“Daryl?” He asked tentatively, rising onto his free elbow to get a better look at his boyfriend’s face.

The other man wore a blank expression and stared straight ahead.

“Why haven’t ya?” He murmured quietly after several seconds of silence.

Paul frowned.

“Why haven’t I what?”

“Got bored and moved on?”

“ _What_ ?”

Paul sat up completely to face Daryl, who released his hand as he moved.

“Why would I move on?”

“‘Cause...ya said that ya get bored and don’t stay for too long and move on after a coupla months. We been together a year, ya must be bored by now”

“No! That’s not what I meant!”

Paul grabbed Daryl’s forearm in his desperation when the older man looked doubtful.

“But I ain’t anythin’ special, always wonder why ya with me...I’d get it if ya were”

Paul’s eyes teared up.

“Because I love you! I could never get bored of you. You’re the only man I’ve ever loved, I never want to move on because I never want to be apart from you!”

The unsure expression on the other man’s face broke his heart. Had he really let Daryl get to the point where he doubted himself and Paul’s feeling this much?

Daryl was at war with himself. Truthfully, he had never understood why someone as amazing and kind as Paul was with someone like him. He had chosen to keep those worries a secret and let them fall to the back of his mind as time went on, and he and the younger man had gone from strength to strength.

But hearing the younger man’s offhand comment about his past- of which he and Daryl had barely spoken- came as a stark reminder of how much better Paul could do. He frowned.

“But ya don’t know that ya won’t get bored with me at some point in the future. I mean, I ain’t the best boyfriend, ‘m always forgettin’ things that are important—“

“Daryl, stop. Please just stop for a minute”

Daryl’s mouth snapped shut at Paul’s commanding tone.

“Okay. First of all, I’m sorry for the way what I said sounded- I wasn’t trying to scare you or make you doubt me, I was just making an ill-timed joke. It was stupid. I promise you, I am  never  going to get bored of you- we’ve been together for a year and it’s been the best one of my life. I love you more than anything, and at the risk of sounding corny, I honestly think all the failed relationships I had before were just building up to meeting my soulmate. You”

Paul took a deep breath after his speech and met Daryl’s shining eyes.

“Sap”, the other man choked out before they shared a watery laugh. Paul leaned over and placed a soft, lingering kiss on his partner’s lips. When he pulled away, Daryl looked conflicted.

“So....ya do wanna, y’know, be with me for a long time?” He asked timidly.

Paul smiled softly and smoothed Daryl’s hair from his face.

“Forever, if you’ll have me”

The other man pretended to look unsure as he considered it. Paul grinned.

“On one condition”

“And what’s that?”

“Ya take up yoga so we can do that position on the regular”

Paul’s laughter echoed through their bedroom until it was drowned out by Daryl’s lips meeting his again.

*****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments welcome! :)


	7. Good Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daryl learns a terrible truth about Paul.

Daryl was in Hell. He was sure he had died sometime between his and Paul’s second round the night before and falling asleep. The effort of pretending to enjoy the concoction of eggs, bacon and mushrooms on the plate before him began to wear him down. He met Paul’s eyes from across the table and returned his warm smile, even as he struggled to chew the bite of food in his mouth. 

For all of Paul’s many talents, cooking was not one of them. Although, the situation was teaching Daryl that he must have a much stronger poker face than previously thought.

——

“So, you’re coming over tonight, too?” Paul asked as he walked Daryl to the door.

“Yeah, be here for 7”

“Great. I’ll make sure I have dinner ready for 7, then”, Paul winked. Daryl blanched.

“Oh, um...or we could order pizza?”

“I don’t mind cooking”

“I know, but don’t want ya to have to cook for me again, specially after bein’ at work all day, and you’ll be tired...”

There was a pause.

“Daryl...did you not like my breakfast?”

Daryl’s eyes widened as he spluttered.

“No! I mean yeah! Of course I did, I ate it all didn’t I? ‘Course I enjoyed it, why would ya ask that?” He rambled. He trailed off when he looked at the other man and caught the mischievous smile on his face.

He narrowed his eyes.

“What?”

“Dar...I am a terrible cook. I just wanted to see how polite you’d be about it and how much you’d manage to eat without saying something”

“You motherfucker”

Daryl shoved him as they both began to laugh. The relief the older man felt was obvious on his face.

“You’ve proven yourself to be very polite, though, so you should be happy”

“Guess my poker face weren’t that good either, then?”

“On the contrary, if I didn’t know you as well as I do, it might have convinced me”

“Shit. So, you want me to bring the pizza later?”

“Sure you don’t wanna try my signature half-cooked macaroni?”

“I love ya, but fuck no”

*****


	8. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unexpected discovery has equally unexpected results

“I told you the remastered version wouldn’t ruin the nostalgia”, Paul grumbled triumphantly and rolled his eyes. Daryl snorted as they continued to walk in the fine rain towards their house on their way back from the movie theatre.

“I never said it would, just that if it ain’t broke, why mess with it, y’know?”

“No one would guess you were a classic film buff”

“Don’t call Raiders a _classic_ ,  ‘cause if it is, that makes me old, and I ain’t old”

“I agree, you’re only 51, middle-aged. So, no, you’re not old”

“Thank you”

“...much older than _me_ ,  but y’know, nothing we can do about that”

Paul laughed when the other man shoved him harshly into the side of a dumpster as they passed it. Any retaliatory actions were halted by a high-pitched keening from within; both of them paused and snapped their eyes to each other, shocked.

Daryl marched to the dumpster and tore open the lid- to reveal a dirty, dishevelled Boston Terrier puppy, cowering between the trash bags as it shivered. Its black and white coat was smudged with grime and it continued to whine as it stared plaintively at the two men.

Paul gasped at the sight of it and didn’t hesitate to reach in and take the little puppy into his arms. He tucked it into the front of his jacket and scratched its ears as it finally stopped whining. Paul glanced up and saw the determined look on Daryl’s face; he paused.

“What?”

“No”

Paul blinked.

“No, what?”

“We ain’t keepin’ it. Can already see ya gettin’ that look on ya face”

“I am not”

“‘S the same look ya gave me when ya saw the last hamster left at the pet store. Then ya cried for a week when it died a few months later”

“Herman was my first ever pet, have some respect”

“I do, s’why his fuckin’ cage is still collectin’ dust in my lounge”

Paul huffed and curled a protective arm over the warm bundle in his coat.

“We’re taking him back with us tonight- we can’t leave him out here”

“...fine, but it’s sleepin’ in the kitchen and we’re takin’ it to the shelter in the mornin’- and  _leavin’_ it there for them to find it a home. It ain’t stayin’ with us”

“Okay, fine”

_ ***** _ _Three_ _Weeks Later*****_

Paul groaned as he took in the carnage before him- his best pair of Doc Martens lay in tatters on the hall floor, torn apart by ferocious puppy teeth.

“Don’t mope, you’re the one that begged me to keep the little menace!”

Paul turned and glared at the other man; he was sat on the couch, in a pair of sweats, with their puppy- Bowie- tucked in a neat ball on his lap. He absent-mindlessly scratched the back of Bowie’s neck as he snorted in his adorable puppy sleep; the tips of his fingers brushed against the custom-made collar  _Daryl_ had had made the week before. 

Paul couldn’t stop the dismay that filled him at how badly getting his own way had backfired on him this time.

*****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments welcome! :)


	9. Icarus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paul lets his emotions get the better of him

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title based on the myth of Icarus, whose pride and recklessness were his downfall.

Paul hissed in pain at the alcohol-soaked rag being pressed into the deep gash on his shoulder. He chose to ignore the answering wince if guilt on his roommate’s face and instead, focused on the tile pattern of their bathroom wall. He didn’t get far enough to consider the decorating logistics of matching up the marble pattern on each tile before Daryl piped up.

“Fuckin’ idiot”, he seethed, guilt replaces by searing anger, “You were two blocks from here, shoulda called me when ya realised ya had a problem”

“I  _didn’t_ have a problem”, Paul stated stubbornly. Daryl responded by pressing the rag harder against his wound, which resulted in a pained cry from the younger man and not an ounce of guilt from Daryl this time.

“Oh, no, course not, just got a chunk of ya arm missin’ thanks to a  broken bottle,  and a wrist that’s sprained so bad ya can barely move you’re fingers”

“At least it’s not broken”

“Oh, yeah,  _there’s_ the silver linin’- thanks for sharin’ it with me, I was havin’ trouble findin’ it”, Daryl snarled back sarcastically.

Paul met his roommate’s eyes, unimpressed.

“Don’t you give me that fuckin’ look, Paul. This ain’t funny”

“I never said it was. I’m bleeding over my favourite shirt and you’re yelling at me”

Daryl sighed.

“‘M only yellin’ because ya don’t get it. Ya got a bottle to the shoulder, your wrist coulda been broken too and m’pretty sure ya got bruised ribs. If the other guy had had a gun instead of a piece of glass, you’d be dead”

“True, but he didn’t, and I’m not”

“You really don’t get it”

“What?”

“That you ain’t invincible! You can’t keep pickin’ fights with random people just cause ya got a blue belt now. I know things’ve been shit the last few months, but ya need to stop before you get yourself killed”

Paul stood and squared up against Daryl and levelled him with a glare.

_“Shit?_ One of my best friends  _died!_ I think I’m entitled to let off some steam however I want”

“Then go to a gym, or take up boxing”

“I can handle myself in some bar fights, Daryl”

“Like my brother did?”

Every cell in Paul’s body froze at the mention of Merle; Paul had heard the tale of Daryl’s brother and his sudden and unexpected death after being knocked down in a drunken bar fight. He has hit his head on the way down after being punched and never got up.

Daryl  _never_ talked about him; he got angry and defensive if anyone so much as mentioned him in passing. Right now, he just looked disappointed and sad.

The expression on his face sent shame rushing through Paul so hard that he fell back to sitting on the edge of the bathtub. He winced when his ribs protested the sudden movement.

Tears unexpectedly burned in his eyes and he swiped at them savagely before they could fall. Daryl crouched down and appeared in his blurry vision as he sniffed.

“Paul...Sasha wouldn’t want ya to fuck your life up, or risk it, you know that”

Paul shuddered out a shaky breath as Daryl reaches forward and entwined their hands.

“I miss her”, Paul whispered, “We started karate together last year, and were on the same level before she...and now I’m a higher level than she was and it just snapped something in me, I think”

“You need to talk to someone, m’sure Denise would be happy to”

Paul nodded, “yeah, I think I’ll call her in the morning”

“Good, now lets get ya shoulder fixed up, since you refuse to go to a hospital”

Paul grabbed the other man’s wrist as he pulled his hand away. The action made Daryl pause and look at him quizzically.

“Thank you”, Paul whispered and smiled.

“Anytime”, Daryl murmured back. He gave Paul’s hand a squeeze before he reached for the antiseptic solution.

Paul let his head hang back a little as Daryl worked; his chest and mind both felt lighter than ever for the first time in months.

*****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments welcome! :)


	10. Jokes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s Paul vs Daryl in a prank war

“Why do you always gotta stare at me when I’m sleepin’?” Daryl rasped with his one open eye boring into Paul, who grinned.

“‘Cause you’re pretty”

Daryl groaned.

“It’s too early in the mornin’ for you to be this gay”

“You’re right...it might just be because of the hickeys I’ve left all over your neck”

“ What?!”

Daryl sprang out of bed so fast he knocked Paul out of it and onto the floor with a surprised cry, in his haste to get to the bathroom mirror.

He groaned once again as he took in the cluster of purple bruises Paul had sucked onto the right side of his neck. They were too angry and large to cover up.

“What are you, a damn vampire?”

“You weren’t complaining last night”, Paul continued to grin even from the floor he’d not yet risen from. 

“‘Cause I didn’t know you were doin’ it! Ya coulda put ‘em somewhere people couldn’t see, like my chest”

“But then Merle and Carol wouldn’t get to see them at dinner, tonight”

Daryl froze and levelled his partner with a glare that would’ve turned him to ash if he weren’t immune to it after all this time.

“You are such an asshole”

*****

“So, tell us again, Daryl, about this out of control, handheld vacuum cleaner you bought that made those marks on your neck?” Carol asked, face pinched with the effort of holding back laughter. She wasn’t alone, Paul’s hands were fisted as they rested on either side of his place setting at the table, nails biting into his palms as he curled his lips behind his teeth to stop a smile. 

Merle wasn’t even trying to hide his glee; the man had a grin that would rival the Cheshire Cat as he watched his baby brother squirm and stutter, face red as the tomatoes in the bolognese in front of him.

“What more’s there to say? It got away from me, caught on my neck and made the marks. Can we change the fuckin’ subject?”

“It made...five different perfect circles on ya neck before ya had a chance to switch it off?” Merle asked doubtfully as he counted them, still smiling.

“Yes. Paul was there, he can vouch for it”

“Oh, ‘m almost _certain_ Paul was there”, Merle sniggered. Carol slapped his arm as she choked back a snort.

“No, no, he’s telling the truth”, Paul stated, “It was like a monster was attached to his neck, I couldn’t get it off of him. But he can’t be blamed for not noticing fast enough, his focus was taken by all the...cleaning going on”

“Shut the fuck up”, Daryl hissed as his brother and sister-in-law burst out laughing. He sank down in his chair and ignored the jokes they made around him until the plates were cleared.

He perked up somewhat at the mention of dessert: Carol’s famous chocolate and vanilla cheesecake. As he watched his partner’s excitement mirror his own, an idea came to him.

*****

“I swear, Carol, this looks and smells better and better every time you make it”

“Aww, thanks, Paul. But there’s no need to butter me up with compliments- I’m sending you two home with an extra few slices anyway”

Paul winked at her and took the slice of cheesecake Daryl had cut for him with a soft smile. Daryl quickly turned his face away to hide the smirk that threatened to break out as the other man disappeared into the dining room with Merle to eat his dessert.

“What are you up to, Dixon?” Carol asked, suspicious.

“Dunno what you mean”

“Oh please, not only have I known you upwards of a decade now, but Merle gets that very same look on his face when he’s doing something he shouldn’t be”

Daryl met her eyes with an innocent smile, and shrugged.

“I don’t have any look, like I said, I dunno  what  ya could _possibly_ be talkin’—“

“Ugh, what the fuck?” Paul exclaimed from the other room. Daryl sniggered into his hand.

“DARYL!”

Carol raised an eyebrow at her brother-in-law and shook her head.

Paul appeared in the doorway, holding his plate of cheesecake which was missing a forkful. Said forkful was spat into a mushy pile on the other side of the slice, the chewed texture revealing the cayenne powder Daryl had mixed into the topping before he’d given it to his partner.

At the sight of the outraged look on Paul’s face, Daryl burst out into a strong belly laugh, bending over slightly to clutch his stomach as it began to ache. When he looked up, he could tell it was taking Paul a great effort to keep looking mad instead of joining him in laughter.

“How dare you defile the most delicious cheesecake in the world?” He demanded. 

“Thanks, hon!” Carol called from the dining room she’d retreated to. 

“You’re welcome!” Paul called back without taking his eyes off Daryl, whose laugh had turned into a breathy wheeze was he struggled to breathe in air in his moment of joy. 

“And thank ya both for providin’ us with more entertainment than our TV does”, Merle shouted from the table, his wheezing laughter matching his brother’s. The two men in the kitchen could hear Carol trying to shush him and failing.

After a few moments, Daryl calmed down enough to take a breath and speak.

“I didn’t ruin the whole slice, just that bit on the end you’d bite into first”, he reassured.

Paul huffed a heavy sigh.

“You suck, you know that right?”

“No, Paul,  you’re  the one who sucks! Just check out Darlina’s neck!” Merle chortled from the other room.

“Shut the fuck up, Merle!” Daryl called back.

*****

That night, as Daryl and Paul got ready for bed, they avoided each other’s eyes and searched everything they touched in suspicion of each other. The tension mounted and raised higher with each passing second.

Finally, Daryl snapped.

“Okay, can we just agree on a truce? You got me with the hickeys and I got ya back with the cheesecake, we even now?”

Paul sighed. 

“Agreed. No more pranks or jokes on each other”

They shook on it and climbed into bed. Daryl jerked back up to standing and almost fell over his own feet as a loud, rippling, simulated fart sound reverberated through the room. He rounded on Paul, who was partially hidden under the covers and had a hangdog look on his face. He reached under the duvet and produced the whoopee cushion he had placed there when Daryl was brushing his teeth. 

“No more from now”, he suggested sheepishly. 

“No more, my ass. Better watch ya back, Rovia”

Paul replied with a wicked grin.

“Bring it on, Dixon”

*****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments welcome! :)


	11. Knowledge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paul gives himself a new mission for the New World.

Daryl huffed out an irritated breath as he tripped over a small pile of books Paul had left on the floor. What had started as a minor annoyance had become a potential fire and safety hazard; the younger man came back with a handful of new ones every time he went on a long run. Daryl could usually find him with his face buried in one, either at the table or in their bed.

Daryl looked up and spotted him at the former; the younger man’s hand almost blurred with the speed at which he scribbled down notes on the open pad next to the dog-eared novel beside it.

“Been at it long?” He asked sarcastically.

“An hour or so...just trying to...get my thoughts down before they leave my head”, Paul mumbled distractedly.

“So, you were doing other stuff before you started reading?” Daryl confirmed.

“Um, yeah I guess? Washed some clothes, helped Mags with some stuff” 

He still hadn’t looked up from his writing.

“Hmm...and one of the things you did couldna been clearing these damn books from the entrance of the trailer?”

At Daryl’s angry tone, Paul finally snapped his head up.

“Huh?”

“You know one of the basic principles of fire safety is to keep the exit clear, right?”

“Um...”

“So that we don’t get trapped in a fuckin’ inferno if these hazards go up in flames?”

Paul’s tired eyes softened.

“I’m sorry. I get why you’re worried about this- I’ll move them in just a sec, promise”

Daryl sighed and rubbed a hand over his face.

“This ain’t about how my mom...Look, m’worried about you. Lately, all you seem to wanna do is read and then fill books with scribbles that don’t make any sense”

“They make sense to me”

“Paul, what’s going on?”

Paul huffed and dropped his pen before burying his face in his hands. His muffled voice came from behind them a few moments later.

“I need to do more to help”

“Huh?”

Paul raised his head to level Daryl with a resigned expression that had the older man’s brow creasing.

“I need to do more to help people around here”

“But...you’re already teaching kung-fu and self-defence classes. And you’re on the council here to help with trade between communities; people come to you for anything”

“I know, but I want to help expand their minds and views of the old world, too. In this world, it’s easy to teach them how to fight and kill walkers, and the best ways to hold and hide a knife without hurting themselves. Because it’s _necessary;_ they’re going to need those skills outside these walls when they eventually encounter the threats out there. But, they don’t exactly have a need for structured schooling or teaching- I want the young generation who are growing up in this dead world to know about classics like _1984_ and _Dracula,_ and the great romances and Sci-Fi epics that we grew up with and learned about. I know I’m not qualified to teach someone about that stuff by the old world standards, but I at least want to try- and my notes are for anyone who wants to help or take over if they were qualified Before...I just don’t want these amazing stories going to waste just because the world has changed since they were written”

Paul was slightly out of breath by the end of his speech. Daryl stared at him for a second before he nodded.

“That’s...a pretty good reason. But, do you really think teaching a kid about the meaning and whatnot of a book written like 100 years ago is gonna help them much today?”

Paul sighed. “Probably not...but as Sir Francis Bacon said, _‘Knowledge is_ _Power’”_

“You are such a nerd, it makes me sick”, Daryl smirked.

“I have never claimed to be anything less, and you love me anyway”

“Who was that Bacon guy anyway?”

“He was a British philosopher in the 16th Century who helped create what became the modern scientific method. Although, it was never proven that he ever said those words, but I stand by them”

“Fair enough, makes sense I guess”

“Yeah. I mean...I hope this won’t open up a whole load of issues...in the old world, racism and sexism were in high demand, as well as homophobia. I guess one good thing about losing culture and education is people not passing on prejudices; there are too many more important things to deal with nowadays than petty things like that”

“Don’t talk yourself outta it, it’s a good idea. Hell, if it gets the books off my floor it’s a fuckin’ amazing idea”

“Maybe. If my teaching skills don’t hinder more than help them”

There was a pause.

“Why don’t you start with me?”

“What do you mean?”

“I never really...went to school much, didn’t read a lot when I did go. I can read, but wasn’t ever interested or had the time, plus my Daddy or Merle woulda thrown any I took home in the trash. So, why don’t you start with me and we can work on your skills before you ask Maggie if you can start doing classes?”

“That’s a great idea. Though, are you sure you trust me enough to teach you?”

“‘Course, you’re the smartest person I’ve ever met”

“And the prettiest”, Paul preened, flipping his hair over his shoulder.

Daryl grinned and shook his head.

“Yes, Paul, you’re the prettiest little bookworm I’ve ever known”

He flicked the top of the younger man’s exposed ear as he passed him on the way to the shower.

“Hey!”

“Now that’s sorted, clean the fuckin’ books up. I ain’t breaking my neck just cause you’ve chosen the life of a professor”

“If I’m a professor, doesn’t that mean you have to call me Sir?”

Paul giggled at the blush that bloomed across Daryl’s face before it disappeared behind the bathroom door.

As he set about picking up the ‘fire hazards’, Paul smiled to himself as he considered the possibilities his and Daryl’s roles of teacher and student would bring to their bedroom.

_Many,_ he thought slyly, already planning detentions in the back of his mind.

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments welcome! :)


	12. Loose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How many times is too many?
> 
> (Note the rating change: NSFW)

Paul wiggled his toes experimentally and sighed in relief when they responded. He was happy to know he could get the blood flow back to his feet that fast after having them above his head for nearly 30 minutes. It was a small consolation to have that knowledge, given that he had a feeling Daryl wasn’t done with him yet.

Paul glanced over at his partner, lounging next to him in bed and smoking a cigarette. The older man looked content and peaceful as he inhaled the nicotine, and Paul could feel his heart swell with affection as he watched him.

“So”, Paul broke the silence, “up for round four?”

Daryl smirked, “Yeah, think your ass is, though?”

Paul shimmied his hips a little and flushed at the open wetness he felt between his cheeks. Daryl’s eyes darkened when he noticed the younger man’s face change.

“Yeah, I’d say so”, Paul breathed. In an instant, Daryl reached back to snuff out his smoke before he descended on Paul like a wolf- licking, biting, scoring his nails down the muscles on Paul’s torso.  _ Fuck. _

“Shit,  _ baby” _

Daryl smirked against Paul’s throat before sliding down his abs, trailing open-mouthed kisses along the way until he reached Paul’s already hard-as-steel cock. He lapped at the head for a second, before slipping the entire length past his tongue and teeth, into his throat.

The action burned holes in Paul’s vision as his head fell back and he cried out. He scrabbled desperately at the bedsheets before tangling his fingers in Daryl’s shaggy hair as the older man’s head began to bob up and down.

After a few minutes of ecstasy, Daryl upped the onslaught and slid two fingers into Paul’s loose, fucked-out hole without warning.  _ When did he put lube on them?  _ Paul didn’t have time to ponder the matter for too long, as his partner pushed his digits in as far as possible and curled them upwards, brushing against Paul’s oversensitive prostate. The younger man choked on thin air as electric shocks shot from the base of his spine to his brain; he shuddered as Daryl added a third finger to join the first two.

Daryl eventually pulled back, out of breath, with swollen lips; he grinned when he saw the state his boyfriend was in.

“Jesus Christ, Paul, you’re so fuckin’ loose”, he marvelled was he added his pinky alongside the other three, watching them disappear inside with ease.

Paul tested the resilience of his leg muscles and lifted them into a bend, pulling his knees up to his chest as Daryl began to move all four fingers in and out of him at a faster pace.

“Fuck, Daryl, _babe”,_ Paul panted, “Your thumb, put it- -  _fuck._ Use your fist,  _ please” _

“Yeah? Y’sure?”

“Yeah”

“Won’t hurt you?”

“Just use more lube.  _ Now” _

Daryl slowed his movements to get the lube and slathered it onto the exposed parts of his hand. Paul glanced down at him; as their eyes met, Daryl asked once more, “Are you sure?”

“Daryl Dixon, I swear to God if you don’t put your fist in my ass right now-  _ ah !” _

Paul’s rant was cut off as Daryl did as he was told. There was a brief resistance from the shock, but it only lasted a moment before Paul relaxed enough to let the intrusion in.

_ Why the fuck hadn’t they done this before? _

Daryl kept a sharp focus on Paul’s face for any signs of pain or discomfort as he worked his fist in to the wrist, where he paused to let the younger man acclimatise to the stretch.

After a moment, he moved again, slowly, sliding in and out, relishing the shocked gasps of pleasure he received.

Once Paul had opened enough for Daryl to thrust his fist at a faster pace, he leaned down to return his mouth to his leaking cock, sucking it down to the hilt as he increased the frequency of his attack on Paul’s hole.

He twisted his wrist, wiggled his fingers against his prostate and ran his tongue lightly up and down the vein on the underside of Paul’s cock until the younger man was a writhing mess, unable to form coherent speech except for broken off moans.

Time seemed to stop for Paul as he was tortured to the brink of orgasm, only to be brought back, over and over. It wasn’t accidental; Daryl paused all movement each time Paul began to shake with building orgasm, before continuing the cycle when he was satisfied he’d staved it away again.

Eventually, after what felt like hours, Paul broke. Daryl stilled his mouth, but continued his ministrations with his fist as Paul tensed and shot, hot and hard, down his throat. 

With weak limbs, Paul pushed his partner’s head away from his sensitive cock and winced as Daryl carefully removed his fist from inside him. The gape it left behind caused a blush from his face to his chest.

Daryl sidled back up the bed until he was face to face with Paul, who was lowering his numb legs onto the bedspread. He sighed.

“I had  _just_ got the feeling back in my feet”, he grumbled.

“Oh, m’sorry, did you not enjoy that?”

Paul slapped him on the shoulder as they both giggled.

Once he’d caught his breath, Paul slid an arm down Daryl’s stomach to find his untouched, leaking cock and began to stroke it tenderly. The other man’s breath hitched as he moaned.

“Getting the same day off was such a good idea”, Paul murmured as he glided gracefully down the bed to take Daryl into his mouth.

“Fuck yeah”, Daryl groaned back, and tangled his fingers into Paul’s long hair as he began to move.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments welcome! :)


	13. Misunderstanding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pretending to date to protect Daryl from unwanted attention leads to a very real situation.

“Remind me again why I’m doing this”

“Because you’re the best friend in the whole world”

Paul fixed Daryl with an unimpressed stare. The older man huffed.

“And because I’m buyin’ your drinks for the rest of the night”

“The rest of the week”, Paul corrected him.

“Fine, the rest of the week, now put your fuckin’ arm around me”

Paul complied, and just in time, too. He looked to his left and saw Andrea approaching fast. She and Daryl had worked together for a few months, and she had been unable to get the message that the man was very much gay and uninterested in women. Paul had spent many evenings drinking with Daryl, listening to him complain about her sexual harassment.

“Daryl Dixon, there you are! I’ve been looking for you for over an _hour_! I saw you come in, but Phillip had me cornered with some members of the board, you know how he is”, she reached out to stroke his arm as she openly checked him out. Paul felt Daryl tense where his arm was wrapped around him.

“Hey, Andrea”, Paul cut in, “how’re you doing tonight?”

With great effort, the blonde turned with an entirely false smile to face Paul.

“Paulie!” She exclaimed, “Lovely to see you, honey, it’s been too long. You here as Tara’s guest, I presume?”

“Nope, Daryl’s date, actually”

Her gaze dropped to where the two men were stood close together. Her eyes narrowed at seeing Paul’s hand on his waist. Before she could make any remarks, Daryl chimed in.

“Yeah, we been together for a while, now. Figured I’d bring him to the company holiday party, show him off”

“Really?” She asked, sceptically.

“Yeah, we’re real happy, right babe?”

Paul turned to face Daryl with a soft smile, which the other man returned.

“Sure are”, he murmured.

As their eyes met, Paul felt a spark of something in his gut; the gentle way Daryl was looking at him had butterflies fluttering in his stomach. By the flustered look that passed over Daryl’s face for a moment, he must have felt it, too.

Paul snapped out of it when the DJ began playing a new song.

“Oh my God, I love this song”, he gushed as the opening harmonies of _Unchained Melody_ flooded the party hall.

“Let’s dance”, Daryl suggested, completely ignoring the still-hovering Andrea to pull Paul onto the dancefloor to join the other couples.

Once they had arrived, there was a momentary awkwardness as they figured out where to hold each other, before they began to sway and shuffle to the music.

“Thanks”, Daryl whispered after a couple of seconds, “She weren’t gonna give up….is this the song from _Ghost_?”

“Yeah, best movie ever made”

Paul glanced to the edge of the floor, where a disgruntled Andrea stood, watching them with a frosty expression.

“She hasn’t given up yet”

Daryl followed his gaze.

“For fuck’s sake”

Paul smirked and met Daryl’s eyes, “Wanna make her really jealous?”

“What you got in mind?”

“Put your hands on my ass”

Daryl snorted, but did as he was told. Paul ignored the whisper of heat the feeling of Daryl’s hands sliding down to cup his ass sent to his crotch.

“Her drink’s gonna start steamin’ in her hand if she don’t calm down soon”

Paul snorted out a laugh.

“Seriously, man, if looks could kill, you’d be fuckin’ dust”

“You’re right, she is not getting the message, clearly”

“Yeah. Wanna hammer it home?”

“Okay…how?”

“’Kay, don’t punch me”

“Wh—“

Before Paul could question him, Daryl leaned in and pulled him into one of the hottest kisses he’d experienced. Daryl had brought up a hand to cup Paul’s jaw, while the other remained glued to his ass, squeezing slightly. Paul tightened his own hands on Daryl’s waist as he responded to the kiss, opening his mouth to deepen it; he gasped when Daryl slipped him some tongue.

Their kiss gradually ended as the song did. Both men blinked and cleared their throats as they pulled apart. Daryl wouldn’t look at him, and scanned the room with a flick of his eyes.

“She’s gone”

“Um…I believe you were going to buy my drinks?” Paul attempted a smirk that fell flat when he felt how red his face was. At least Daryl’s blush was equally bright.

“Yeah, yes, let’s go get some alcohol. A lot of alcohol”, Daryl nodded and huffed out a short laugh before he lead them to the bar.

As Daryl ordered them both double whiskeys, a familiar voice appeared behind them.

“Damn, I told you guys we should’ve bet money on when these two would finally get their heads out of their asses”

The two of them spun around to see Tara, Rick and Michonne hovering, all wearing identical expressions of glee.

“Huh?” Daryl said intelligently.

“We saw your little lip-locking fun on the dancefloor”, Rich grinned.

“Don’t forget the ass grab”, Michonne sighed, “there’s an image I won’t forget any time soon”

“Calm down, honey”

Tara held her hands up, “Hang on, before the Q and A formally begins, can I just start by asking what made you guys finally come to your senses and realise how totally awesome you are for each other? Cause we’ve been talking about just shutting you in a closet until it came out, pun intended”

Daryl choked on his sip of whiskey as Paul sputtered, “What? N-no! We were just—Andrea—“

“She was flirtin’, Paul was just helpin’ me get rid of her”

Their friends exchanged looks.

“Erm”, Rick scratched the back of his neck, “it looked like more than that from where we were. But, okay, we’ll leave you to your…pretending”

They shuffled away uncomfortably; Tara shot them a double thumbs up before she turned to follow the two of them.

Paul glanced to Daryl and was shocked to see him blushing and steadfastly avoiding his gaze. He paused.

“Daryl? It…was it pretend?”

Daryl’s eyes snapped to his.

“Of course! We were only actin’ like—like we liked each other…right?”

“Right! We’re just…friends”

“Yeah, real good friends”

They stood side by side against the bar and nursed their drinks. After a few silent moments, Daryl spoke.

“Unless…”

“Unless?”

“Unless you don’t wanna pretend?”

“You mean, make this real?”

Paul faced the other man in wonder. He smiled a little when he saw how shy and unsure Daryl was.

“Yeah”, Daryl muttered, setting his shoulders when he saw that Paul wasn’t rejecting him yet, “Yeah, make it real. If you want?”

Paul grinned helplessly.

“Well, that was some kiss. I wouldn’t mind trying that again, and again”

Daryl blushed and grinned back.

“But, just because we’re actually going to start dating for real now, doesn’t mean you’re getting out buying my drinks for the rest of the week”

“That don’t seem fair. You already got me, ain’t that enough?” Daryl winked.

“Hey, look at it this way—I get tipsy, there’s a higher chance of you getting some later”

“Say no more”, Daryl flagged down the bartender, “two more whiskeys”

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments welcome! :)


	14. Normal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paul's hidden mental health condition comes to light.
> 
> TW: Panic attack

_Everything’s fine. It’s fine. There is nothing wrong here. Everything’s fine. It’s not a problem. You can handle this. You are okay._

Paul repeated the mantra in his head as he paced back and forth in his bathroom. His hands shook violently where they were wrapped tightly in his hair.

_This is stupid. You’re a grown man. Just get back in there._

Paul sighed and slapped his cheeks hard a few times; the sound echoed back around the empty room.

It had all been going so well. Very well, in fact. It was the first time Daryl had seen his place; Paul had cooked, they’d drunk wine and held hands while they ate, and after dinner, had retreated to his bedroom.

Despite his hesitation about having someone else in his bed, the sex had been amazing. Paul had come so hard he blacked out for a second, everything going hazy and blank, until he came back into focus in the next moment, just as Daryl groaned out loud as his own orgasm washed over him.

The afterglow had been wonderful, and lasted all of two minutes before Paul’s brain interrupted. He needed to shower. He _needed_ to shower right now. He was dirty, there was sweat on him, his skin was sticky with it along with his rapidly drying cum; some of the sweat was Daryl’s, he could feel a patch of drying saliva on the side of his neck where the older man had clamped his mouth down as he came. In the moment, it was hot, now it was dirty. He could feel the filth. He’d hastily exited with excuses about needing the bathroom, and Daryl, still blissed out and half-asleep, had barely acknowledged him before Paul ran to get into his shower and scrub his skin raw under the hot spray.

After washing each part of his body three times, and thoroughly drying off, he’d slipped out of the bathroom, clicked off the light twice and re-entered the room—to find that Daryl had rolled over in his sleep onto Paul’s side of the bed, drooling onto Paul’s pillow. He hadn’t spared a moment before sprinting back to the bathroom, still naked, and had worked himself up to his current state.

 _You’re 36. You don’t need_ your _pillow, or to sleep on that side. You can sleep on the wrong—the_ other _side._

It was with an alarmed embarrassment that Paul realised he was hyperventilating. His chest squeezed tight like it was in a vice, and he curled his shaking hands into fists.

He tried to remember the years of therapy, and all the techniques for stopping a panic attack he’d learned. It wasn’t helping; if anything, thinking about his awful therapist from his teenage years was making it worse.

His breaths morphed into loud gasps and black spots appeared in the edges of his vision. He buried his face in his fisted hands in an attempt to cover up the pathetic whimpers that began to escape his mouth against his will. He only vaguely noticed as his body crumpled to the floor in a ball, dragging the standing towel rack down with him.

_You’re pathetic, why do you even bother? You’re a weirdo, a freak, everyone was right, they can all see it, they all know, Daryl will know, he won’t stay with you, you should just—_

“Paul?”

Paul froze. Daryl knocked on the bathroom door.

“Paul? You okay in there?”

Paul took another gasping breath.

“I’m fine”, he wheezed out.

There was a pause.

“Ya don’t sound fine, m’comin’ in”

Before Paul could stop him, Daryl had wrenched the door open; his eyes widened when he saw the state the younger man was in on the floor.

“Paul, babe”, Daryl dropped to his knees beside him, “What’s wrong? What’s going on? You hurt? Did you fall?”

“ _No!_ No, no, no. I’m fine, just go back to bed, I’ll be there in a minute”

“You’re shakin’, and can’t catch your breath. I ain’t leavin’ ya”

Paul’s face crumpled and his eyes filled with tears as Daryl’s expression became understanding.

“You havin’ a panic attack? What can I do?”

“I’m sorry”, he whispered.

“Oh, Paul”

Daryl sat back on the floor next to him and pulled Paul’s trembling body onto his lap without another word.

The comfort and vulnerability that they were sharing had sobs wrenching from deep within Paul’s chest within a matter of moments.

It also made his shame about the situation strengthen.

“I’m sorry, I’m being stupid—“

“Shh, it’s okay, let it out, whatever it is”

“I’m an idiot, just leave me to—“

“ _Paul._ Stop, baby. M’here, and m’not leaving you alone like this. Stop apologisin’. When ya ready, you can tell me what’s goin’ on”

Paul shuddered out his first steady breath as he felt the vice around his chest loosen; Daryl gently ran his hands up and down his bare back and into his hair as they sat quietly.

After a few minutes, Paul felt safe enough to speak without having to gasp for air. Even so, a ball of dread formed in his gut as he opened his mouth.

“I, um…I have Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. Had it since I was a little kid. It means I….I have to- there’s things I _have_ to do or need to do, or I can’t—“Paul took a deep breath.

He’d never told anyone that wasn’t a professional about his issues. He wanted to run and hide, but refused to be a coward anymore.

“I have to be clean. Things have to be clean around me, but every time I clean anything, including myself, it needs to be done three times- or it’s not clean to me. Or, something bad could happen to me. Erm, that’s why I run off straight after we have sex every time- it’s not because of you, I just need to make sure my skin’s clean”

“I did wonder, but didn’t wanna ask- I never thought it was me, though”, Daryl murmured as he continued to brush his hands through Paul’s hair.

Paul’s coiled muscles began to relax slowly, and he snuggled closer into his boyfriend’s hold.

“How long have ya been dealing with this?” Daryl muttered after a moment.

“For as long as I can remember. Since I was put in foster care, really. I got bullied for being different in a lot of the different homes I was moved to, and at school. The houses I was placed into were always dirty, they were government run so none of the adults in charge had enough money to go beyond basic food and bills- I had three separate homes which I got bed bugs in. At school, kids started being mean cause I was a foster kid with no family, then they noticed my compulsions, that I’d do things a certain amount of times, or liked things a certain way, and it got worse. Eventually, when I came out as gay, pretty much everyone at my school stayed away from me. Now, I just…take it day by day and try not to let anyone- least of all you- find out how _abnormal_ I am”

Daryl’s hold tightened briefly.

“You are not abnormal. Normal don’t mean shit, most people ain’t ‘normal’, Paul. So, you got compulsions, I can’t imagine how hard it must be livin’ with that alone, never mind keepin’ it a secret. And, uh, while we’re sharin’, I was bullied at school too- for bein’ poor and trailer trash, not speakin’, y’know”

“I’m sorry, bullies suck”

“Yeah, they do. I still don’t get why you didn’t tell me about it before now. I’d have tried to help, made shit easier for ya to deal with. But, it don’t change how I feel about you, if that’s what you’re afraid of”

Paul pulled back to look the older man in the eye.

“I really would understand if you wanted to end things, you know. It’s a lot to handle, and I’ll only annoy you and make you angry with how certain things have to be done around me, especially now that you know it’ll be more obvious and—“

“I love you”

The words got stuck in Paul’s throat. His eyes bugged out of his head involuntarily as he stared dumbfounded at Daryl for what felt like eternity.

“You love me? Even though I’m...?”

“More than anything”, Daryl murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind Paul’s ear.

Paul choked out a shocked laugh.

“I love you too”, he giggled, and leaned in to kiss his boyfriend, “God, I wish I weren’t naked on my bathroom floor, in the middle of a breakdown for the first time we said the L word”

Daryl chuckled back.

“Don’t worry, I plan on sayin’ it a lot, so m’sure we’ll make up for it”

*****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments always appreciated!


	15. On Board

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two clueless idiots meet on a commuter train.

“Sad, isn’t it?”

Paul turned to his left, to see Mystery Man hovering a foot away and gesturing to another commuter they regularly watched- The Flirter- who preyed on whatever poor women sat around him on any given day.

Today, The Flirter had loosed his tie and slicked his hair back; the woman ( _victim)_ he was hitting on looked like she was ready to punch him in the face. Though the two men couldn’t hear the conversation, Paul turned to meet Mystery Man’s eyes.

“10 bucks says she throws her Starbucks over him”

Mystery Man grinned; Paul’s stomach _did not_ swoop at the sight.

“You’re on, I think she’ll smack him. You got ‘til we get to our station”

Paul had been having ongoing encounters with Mystery Man- another commuter on his route to work- for over six months now. They made fun of people like The Flirter, occasionally held each other’s bags while the other did their hair or tie, and had even once shared Paul’s breakfast cereal bar. They usually parted ways at the station exit to head to work.

Sometimes, on busier days, they would only share a nod of acknowledgement and a smile. And, sometimes, they wouldn’t see each other at all. Paul hated those days; he couldn’t deny it, he was smitten with a man whose name he didn’t even know.

“Oh, shit, he we go”, Mystery Man muttered.

Paul glanced over to the Flirter and held his breath as the woman- finally having had enough of his disgusting behaviour- stood up and slapped him round the face. The slap echoed through the carriage, attracting the eyes of every other traveller; when she stormed down the path past Paul and his friend, they both shot her simultaneous thumbs up. The flustered grin they got back had them both smiling.

Paul fished a $10 note from his wallet and handed it to a laughing Mystery Man.

*

Friday morning had begun badly. Paul slept in, hadn’t had time to tame his unruly hair, and had skipped breakfast in favour of making his train.

The train itself was so busy he had been forced into a corner, squished into the space by the multitude of backpacks around him. He glanced around as the train moved along, and spotted the back of Mystery Man’s head down by the next set of doors.

Paul sighed. No chance for a chat or even a smile today.

As the train stopped at the last station before his, Paul was saved from being crushed into the wall as many of the other passengers got off.

The added free space gave him a clearer view of his unnamed friend, who still had his back to him and looked to be playing a game on his phone. Paul stopped himself from walking down and starting a conversation. He didn’t want to seem desperate and, after all, they were only one stop away from their destination. It would look weird if he did.

The train continued through the tunnels towards his stop, and Paul took the opportunity to grab a hair tie and try to tame the unkempt mop hanging down past his shoulders.

As he lowered his hands, he was surprised to notice the train was slowing to a stop in the middle of a darkened tunnel. He glanced around and watched the other passengers as they looked up, confused.

The driver’s voice came through on the overhead speakers, shrouded in static.

“ _Sorry, folks, we’ve just been informed there’s been an incident on the train at the next station, we’re going to need to wait here until it’s cleared. Sorry for the delay, we’ll get moving as soon as possible”_

Groans and murmurs sounded throughout the carriage, but hit Paul’s ears as though it was passing through cotton. He looked up and out of the window at the pitch blackness beyond the glass that reflected his own frowning face back at him.

He’d always hated small spaces, being underground and the dark. He felt like a child admitting it even to himself, but you can’t help what you’re afraid of. Usually, being on an underground train didn’t bother him as much, due to the amount of distractions he could use- including Mystery Man.

Paul scanned his eyes down the aisle to find that the man in question had disappeared from his spot, and frowned harder.

_Damn. Could’ve used the distraction. I wonder why he got off at the stop before?_

“Hey”

Paul jumped slightly and whipped his head to the left. Mystery Man stood with a sheepish smile, arms folded across his chest.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. This is bullshit, huh?”

He gestured around them as Paul nodded, and felt his building unease begin to fade.

“Yeah”, Paul breathed.

“I mean, I’ve already got my boss on my ass about a late report, don’t need him to start screaming about me actually being late myself—Hey, you okay? You’re looking a little pale”

Paul nodded over-enthusiastically.

“Yeah! Yeah, I’m fine. I just, uh, don’t really do well stuck in small, hot spaces”

“Huh. Never noticed you looking like this on any other day”

“Yeah, I’m better when the train’s moving; I can focus on the fact I’m only on it temporarily. When this happens, it kinda freaks me out”

“No shame in that, man. You want me to leave you alone?”

“Actually, having you here is helping a lot”

Paul froze at the unintentional admission, but Mystery Man only smiled at him softly in response.

“Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask- for like months now, actually- but, what’s your name?”

“Oh, uh, same actually. M’Daryl, nice to meet you, I guess”

_Daryl. He has a name. He finally knows his name._

“Hi, Daryl, I’m Paul”

They shook hands and laughed together at the absurdity of the introduction.

Daryl let go of his hand after another beat and reached into the bag slung across his shoulder. Paul grinned when he produced a hacky sack.

“Wanna play?” Daryl smiled hopefully.

*

Paul felt like a little kid; he and Daryl had been kicking the sack back and forth for over 20 minutes. While most of the other passengers had begun loudly complaining about the delay and harassing the driver over the emergency phone, the two men in the corner were laughing and shoving at each other as if they were on the playground.

As he and Daryl reached 45 keep-ups between them, the speakers overhead crackled to life once again.

“ _Hi, folks. I’m very sorry for the extended delay, I know most of you are heading into work, so I apologise if this had made you late. We will endeavour to stop situations like these from happening in the future. We’ll be continuing our journey now”_

Paul rolled his eyes as the train finally began to move again.

“So, they’re not even gonna tell us what the incident was, after making us wait almost a half hour”

“Figures. But, hey, at least we made the best of it. Best train delay I’ve ever had, anyway”

Paul stared at the hopeful and shy way Daryl held himself as he talked, and was filled with sudden affection for the man.

He decided to throw caution to the wind.

“Hey, um, I don’t know how far from the station you work, but there’s a pretty good pizza place just down the street- did you wanna maybe meet me for lunch later today? Or after work if you’re not free for lunch?”

Daryl met his eyes with a wide smile.

“Yeah, that sounds great. Let me get your number so we can arrange it”

Paul blushed as he recited his number and watched the other man enter it into his own. Today was looking up, after all.

*****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments always appreciated!


	16. Parenting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paul and Daryl deal with a big change to their life.

**_September 9 th\- 1 day old_ **

“Look at his little hands! I could eat him alive. Seriously, tell me you don’t wanna nibble these tiny little things”

“Jesus, Paul, at least let us have 24 hours with the boy before you start chewing his fingers off”

Both men looked at each other with open glee as their new son, Hunter Dixon-Rovia, slept soundly in the bassinette between them.

It had been a long adoption process for the married couple; having started their applications and been put on a waiting list well over two years previously, they had begun to lose hope that they’d ever be given a child of their own. Then, finally, the call had come. Paul had never seen Daryl cry so hard over anything in all the years he’d known him; he had also cried just as hard at the hospital when Hunter had been handed over as officially theirs.

An adorable snore sounded from the baby’s miniscule nose that had both men excitedly grinning. Paul reached across to take his husband’s hand.

“You ready for this?”

“Hell yeah”

*

**_September 16 th\- One week old_ **

They were not ready for this. Only a week had passed and already both men were moving through each day in a state of shock.

_Sleep. Feed Hunter. Burp Hunter. Check diaper. Play with Hunter. Sleep. Feed Hunter. Burp Hunter. Check diaper. Check diaper again. Repeat._

“Jesus H Christ, the kid only drinks milk, how the fuck is his shit green?”

“Infant stools vary in shocking colours and consistencies for the first month of life”, Paul deadpanned in monotone sleepily, from his position lounged against the couch cushions.

“Thanks, Talking Baby Book”, Daryl quipped.

Paul barely moved his hand as he half-assedly flipped off his chuckling husband.

A few quiet moments passed as Daryl cleaned up their son, during which Paul felt his head dropping sideways onto his shoulder.

He was brought back to awareness as the couch dipped under him and a heavily breathing newborn was placed carefully into his arms. He instinctively brought Hunter up to his shoulder and sniffed the amazing smell at the top of his head.

“When’s he gonna lose that awesome baby smell, Baby Book?”

Paul rolled his eyes tiredly.

“Most doctors say around the six-week mark”

“Holy fuck, you really are a baby encyclopaedia”

Paul opened his mouth to retort, but closed it and groaned as he felt a tell-tale warmth spread over his collarbone.

“Our son just vomited on my last clean shirt, didn’t he?”

“Looks like it, sorry. Guess you’ll have to take it off and let me have a show”

Paul handed Hunter over to his watching husband before peeling the soiled shirt over his head. He slumped back onto the couch once his upper body was exposed.

“Damn, I’m a lucky man”, Daryl winked as he rocked Hunter gently.

Paul responded by opening his mouth wide and letting out a wide yawn.

“Sexy”

*

**_October 28 th\- 8 weeks old_ **

“We’ve gotta use the second one, he’s looking right at the camera”

“The photoshoot was a great idea”

Daryl scrolled through the pictures they had been emailed by Glenn of Hunter’s Halloween pumpkin carving shoot. Although both men had insisted they would not play into any first-time parent clichés when they had a kid, Glenn’s offer to do novelty photographs of their son had been too good of an opportunity to miss.

Paul sighed from behind Daryl.

“I’m gonna miss him so much tomorrow”

“Don’t”

“Babe, in less than 12 hours, we’re both gonna be leaving for work- you need to accept it. Paternity leave can’t last forever”

“I can’t. He’s only just started sleeping a full seven hours, and we have to go back to work and can’t enjoy the peace? It’s bullshit”

“I know”

“And what if we miss his first real smile? Carol’s promised she’ll take as many photos of him doing cute shit as possible, but she can’t get it all. What if we miss—“

“ _Daryl”_

Daryl’s shoulders slumped as Paul spun the office chair around to face him.

“We’re going to miss some stuff while we’re working- that’s the life of a parent. But, we have awesome people we love looking out for him when we can’t, to document things or tell us all about his day. And it’ll make the evenings and weekends even better when we have him all to ourselves”

Daryl smiled and shook his head at Paul’s comforting words.

“How are you so calm about this? Where’s your heart gone?”

“It’s being held onto by you”

“Cheesy bastard”

\------

Paul absolutely _did not_ have to wipe his eyes when Carol held Hunter’s hand up in a wave at their front door, as he and Daryl left the next morning.

*

**_December 25 th\- Three months old_ **

“Good job, buddy! Just a little bit longer, you can do it”

Paul grinned proudly as Hunter gurgled away on his stomach, lifting his head to look at both of his fathers. They had been practising tummy time for weeks, and this was the longest the little guy had managed to hold up his head without panicking.

“Think we should give him a rest, now, Paul. S’getting late. And it’s Christmas”

“Yeah, okay”

Daryl rolled Hunter onto his back and proceeded to attack his belly with kisses- both men were happy to listen to the pleased sounds the action pulled from their son. He wasn’t quite able to laugh properly yet, but was making progress towards it every week.

Hunter’s first Christmas had gone amazingly; usually during the Holidays, Daryl and Paul joined the Grimes family for celebrations, but had decided to keep this year for just the three of them. Hunter had spent the day surrounded by piles of wrapping paper, endless toys he could barely hold, let alone play with yet, and all while wearing a bright green elf onesie Daryl had found by accident at the store.

It was perfect.

\-----

11pm Christmas evening found Paul and Daryl wrapped up in each other on the couch, the movie playing on the TV long forgotten.

With an almost 4 month old stealing all of their time and energy, their sex life had dwindled from a regular burning inferno, to a rare occurrence. But, they took the moments enthusiastically when they arose.

Paul groaned as Daryl slipped from his seat to his knees in front of him.

“Can’t believe I’m about to get my dick sucked with _A Christmas Story_ as the background noise”

“If your focus is on the movie while I’m down here, I obviously ain’t doing a good job”

Paul’s answering laugh broke off into a gasp as Daryl pulled his sweatpants down his thighs and slid him into his mouth.

The feeling burned holes in the back of Paul’s vision. It had been 4 months of half-assed dry-humping in the early hours, and quick handjobs when Hunter was napping, and Paul was already ready to blow.

“ _Jesus._ I’m not gonna last long”

Daryl replied by tightening his lips and pushing forward to take Paul in further, into his throat and swallowed around him. A quick fist stuck into his mouth stopped Paul from crying out at the action.

From then on, it was a matter of seconds before the feel of Daryl’s flattened tongue running up the vein under his dick had Paul biting his knuckles and arching his back. Sparks tingled down his spine and he tangled the fingers of his free hand in Daryl’s hair as he came, hot and hard, down his husband’s throat.

Daryl hummed happily and swallowed loudly before he pulled back.

“Fuck, you really did need that, huh?”

“You have no idea”

“Feel like returning the favour, handsome?”

Paul yanked Daryl back onto the couch by his shoulders and into a searing kiss, their teeth clacking together as their tongues fought for dominance. Paul groaned as he tasted himself, and lowered his hand to reach into Daryl’s boxers—

A loud wail signalled their son’s call for attention; both men groaned harder at the interruption.

Paul placed a soft kiss on Daryl’s lips.

“I got it- rain check. Once he’s asleep again, I’ll return the favour, old man”

Paul yelped when Daryl smacked his ass as he passed him.

*

**_December 31 st\- 4 months old_ **

The muted news coverage of the ball drop in New York was in full swing as the clock neared midnight, but neither man paid it any attention. Their focus was on the beautiful baby boy in the crib between them. The moment was reminiscent of the first night they had with him.

“I could watch him all day”

“I know, it feels amazing just seeing his chest rise and fall”

Paul glanced up at the screen, then nudged his husband, who met his eyes.

“Happy New Year”, he whispered.

“Happy New Year, babe- best one ever”

They shared a tender kiss before taking turns to place soft, barely-there kissed on Hunter’s smooth forehead.

“Happy New Year, Hunter”, they breathed in unison.

*

**_May 6 th\- 8 months old_ **

“Just add more salt, Paul, for fuck’s sake”

“It doesn’t need any more salt”

“I just tasted it- trust me, it does”

“Oh, cause you’ve got such a discerning palette?”

“You know I do, I married you”

“Sweet as that is, we both know you were living off instant noodles and TV dinners before you met me. The salt ratio is fine”

“Paul”

“And, I’m actually insulted you’re calling my food bland”

“Paul…”

“Also—“

“ **Paul!”**

“What?”

Paul frowned and turned to where Daryl was pointing. He dropped the spoon he was holding in shock.

Both men stared, dumbfounded, as a babbling Hunter tottered on unsteady feet into the kitchen.

After a few seconds frozen in shock, the two fathers snapped out of it simultaneously, and dropped into identical crouches as the toddler gradually closed the distance between them, with steps that were becoming more confident.

“Come on, bud, you got it, just a couple more steps to Daddy”, Paul cooed.

“And Papa, come to Daddy _and_ Papa”, Daryl interrupted, elbowing Paul in the side.

With their encouragement, Hunter stumbled over to his fathers and let out a peal of delighted laughter as they pulled him into a group cuddle.

Neither man bothered to hide their happy tears.

*

**_July 4 th\- 10 months old_ **

The music was loud, the barbecue was smoking, and giving off an incredible smell, and the large group assembled in the Grimes’ backyard shared a content, relaxed atmosphere.

Paul beamed softly as he watched his son wading around the sandpit, hand-in-hand with 4 year old Judith Grimes, clasped tightly together as they “chased” Carl. Hunter let out happy squeals as he kicked up piles of sand.

He heard Daryl sigh looking at the same scene and knew he was thinking about the time it would take to get the sand out of the boy’s clothes. He patted his husband’s arm consolingly.

“That kid is the most adorable sucker I’ve ever seen”, Abraham called over from the grill, gesturing to Hunter.

“Agreed, how’d you make that happen?” Michonne winked.

“Just naturally good at the dad job, I guess”, Paul quipped and high-fived Daryl.

“You got that right”, Rick smirked, “Never thought I’d see the day Daryl Dixon was happy to wipe poop from a baby’s ass and legs after his diaper explodes”

“Wouldn’t say I was happy about it, Grimes”

“Well, you were grinning as hard as he was while cleaning him”

“He was giggling for the first time, man! Can you blame me?”

“Who knew you were such a sappy bastard?”

“You wanna go, Grimes?”

“Dunno- don’t think I can rightly fight an _older_ man”

A chorus of ‘oohs!’ echoed as Paul watched Daryl and Rick jokingly square up to each other and begin to grapple, laughing hard the entire time.

“Wouldn’t be the 4th of July without a good old fashioned redneck wrestle”, Abraham laughed.

As the two men contended and shoved, trying to drop the other on their ass, their antics drew the attention of all the children in the sandpit, who watched on in wonder. After a few moments, Rick shocked everyone by getting a foot hooked around Daryl’s ankle and using it to unbalance the older man; Daryl fell onto his behind with a startled exhale of air. Paul and the other adults cackled from their seats.

Paul snorted and hung his head back, laughing with abandon, until—

“PAPA!”

All noise cut off as everyone’s gazes shot to Hunter, who had made it to the closest edge of the sandpit and was frantically trying to climb over to get to his father, a distressed expression on his little face.

Daryl scurried over to their son and scooped him into his arms; Hunter’s chin wobbled as he clung to his Papa.

“Hey, buddy, Papa’s okay, me and Uncle Rick were just playing”

Paul heard Michonne’s voice close to his ear, “Was that his first word?”

Paul nodded without looking away from his husband and son.

Suddenly, as if he sensed Paul’s attention, Hunter looked over Daryl’s shoulder and spotted Paul.

“Daddy!”

All the breath left Paul’s body in an exhilarated rush as he joined his mini family for a group hug.

\-----

That night, once Hunter had been put to bed, and the two men had retired to their own for some well-earned sleep, they lay with their legs tangled, sharing soft kisses and running their hands up and down each other’s backs.

“I can’t believe he’s speaking already, where’s the time going?” Daryl whispered.

“I know, I love how it happened when we were with everyone”

“Yeah…”

Paul pulled back and caught Daryl’s mischievous smirk.

“What?” He asked, suspicious.

“He said my name first”

“Oh, shut _up,_ Daryl”

Paul turned onto his side with his back to his husband as the man chortled.

****

u

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments appreciated!


	17. Quiz Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paul takes trivia nights seriously.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one of the shorter chapters, hope you enjoy!

“You have got to be _fucking_ kidding me!”

“Paul, sit the fuck down”

“No, this is bullshit! He doesn’t know what he’s doing”

“Paul—“

“I’m sorry, sir, but if there’s one more outburst from you, your entire group will be asked to leave the bar”

The Quizmaster was saved from Paul’s wrath by the combined force of Daryl and Glenn strong-arming him back into his seat.

“Jesus, man, it’s just a question, let it go”, we’re winning anyway”, Glenn consoled.

“But, it’s not right! The question was ‘What was the name of the first movie in the Indiana Jones trilogy?’ _How_ can we lose the point for saying _Raiders of the Lost Ark,_ but not including the words Indiana Jones before it?”

“I know, it’s annoying, but you have to calm down- this is the nicest bar in the area, please don’t get us banned from it”

Paul sighed. He loved trivia, and the quiz nights hosted by their local bar- Woodbury- were the highlight of each month for him. He, Daryl, Glenn, Maggie, Rick and Michonne attended every month, without fail. There was just one problem.

The bar had hired a new host of the night to act as the Quizmaster- a smug, sly little bastard called Milton- who had immediately rubbed their group the wrong way. Discrepancies with the points system and favouritism had already arisen, but now the man was denying correct answers and replacing them with pedantic ones of his own.

As Milton’s tinny voice echoed around, warning of the final buzzer question, worth 10 points, the mumbling around the room stopped.

“And now, it’s time for the final question, folks! Hands at the ready on those buzzers!”

The group tensed, each with a hand prepared to hit their buzzer.

“What is the name of the parent company of motorcycle manufacturer, Ducati?”

Daryl’s hand shot onto the button faster than Paul could blink.

“Table C! What is your answer?”

“Lamborghini”

“Ooh! I’m afraid that is the wrong answer, sir!”

“Excuse me?”

All eyes in the bar watched with rapt attention as Daryl rounded their table and advanced on Milton.

“Then what, exactly, is the _right_ answer?”

Milton stuttered, “U-um, we can’t—I have to get someone else’s answer—“

“What the fuck is the right answer?”

There was a beat.

“Ferrari”

Daryl let out a loud laugh, head tipped back. When he was done, he fixed Milton with an icy glare.

“The _answer_ is what I said, asshole. Been working on bikes since I could hold up a wrench, and I fucking _own_ a Ducati , so you can either give us the fucking points, or there’s gonna be a problem”

***

Paul couldn’t stop his grin as their group walked out the bar, their pictures now taped behind the beer taps, on the No Entry list.

Glenn frowned when he saw Paul’s face.

“What are you so happy about? We just got banned from the best bar in town”

“Because, we just got banned from the best bar in town- but it wasn’t because of me!”

Paul cackled as Daryl slapped his shoulder.

“Shut the fuck up, asshole! What kinda idiot thinks Ducati is owned by Ferrari?”

“The same one that was so petty about a movie title, babe”

“ _Anyway_ ”, Rick interrupted, “now we can’t go there anymore, wanna try and find another that does a trivia night?”

“Sure! I’ve read good things about that new place by the train station, Terminus, I think?”

*****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos always appreciated!


	18. Reaction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paul and Daryl celebrate their one year anniversary.
> 
> What can go wrong?

“Damn, lobster’s better than I thought it’d be”, Daryl moaned around a mouthful of food.

Paul smirked, “What were you expecting?”

“Dunno…for it to be chewy or something”

“It can be, if you overcook it. But, luckily for you, my culinary skills would never allow that to happen”

“Ahh, glad to see you’re staying modest”

Daryl grinned when Paul winked at him. It soon became a soft smile.

“Happy anniversary, baby”, Daryl murmured.

“Happy anniversary. Presents after dinner?” Paul’s eyes glinted.

“Thought we agreed no presents?”

“You telling me you didn’t get me something and hide it in the inside pocket of your jacket?”

“….Never said that. And stop going through my shit, you sneaky prick”

They both shook their heads at each other, grinning, as they took their final bites of dinner.

As soon as Daryl had wiped up the last of his garlic butter, Paul was out of his seat, pulling him over to the couch.

“You don’t wanna clean up first?”

“Too excited. Sit down”

Daryl watched warily as Paul reached under the coffee table and produced what looked like a blank canvas; with nervous eyes, he slowly turned it around until the opposite side faced his husband. His husband, who was struck dumb and gaping at the image before him.

The painting was breath-taking. It was a colourful, vibrant watercolour copy of their favourite wedding photo; their first dance, wrapped up in a close embrace. The photographer had captured them mid-sway, eyes locked and full of such love that it made Daryl blush whenever he looked at the version of it he had as the screensaver on his cell phone.

Daryl cleared his throat, which had grown tight- from emotion, probably- before cautiously taking the canvas to get a closer look at the soft brush strokes adorning it.

“This is _beautiful._ How long have you been working on this?”

“A few weeks, added more and more here and there. It’s why I had to stay late at the gallery a couple times. I may have borrowed some of the paper there to use; it is the paper anniversary, isn’t it?” Paul winked.

“Fucker. This makes what I made you even more ridiculous”

“ _Made?”_ Paul’s eyes widened at his husband, as he gently took the canvas back and placed it on the coffee table, before straddling Daryl’s legs.

Daryl gulped as their eyes met.

“Show me my present, baby”, Paul whispered.

With a deep blush, the older man reached into his shirt pocket to retrieve the small envelope. He handed it over to a suspicious Paul, not meeting his gaze as his face burned.

Paul, ever impatient, ripped it open and dived his hand inside; he broke out into startled laughter when he saw the contents.

Sweat collected at the back of Daryl’s neck and his palms as he watched Paul leaf through the homemade coupons he’d used his office computer and printer to make- a situation he would never live through again, with the amount of stress it caused. Some were fairly innocent- _Good for 12 hours of complete control of the TV-_ while others were less so.

He knew when Paul had reached a less-than-innocent one; his husband’s eyes darkened and the grip of his hand resting on Daryl’s shoulder tightened. Paul looked up to meet his gaze, a wicked smile firmly in place.

“Can I cash these whenever I want?”

“’Til our next anniversary, yeah. There’s um…24 in there, was thinking 2 a month when I made them”

“Not sure that’s going to happen. There are at least three I’ve seen that I wanna cash _tonight_ ”

Daryl felt his already hot face blaze even more as they both leaned forward, mouths meeting in a kiss that turned filthy instantly.

Hands tangled in hair as tongues fought for dominance. Paul began to rut slowly against Daryl’s hips; the action made the older man surge upward, wrapping them closer together, breaths shared as every inch of them touched. Daryl’s skin scorched where Paul was touching him through his clothes.

Actually, every inch of him had begun to feel hot. _Huh._

He didn’t have time to wonder as Paul’s burning hands grappled with the buttons of his shirt. His equally sizzling mouth began to lave kisses and bites to the side of his neck as he opened Daryl’s shirt in quick time.

Daryl let his eyes slip shut as Paul bit down particularly hard before he pulled back.

“Oh, fuck”

Daryl’s eyes shot back open at Paul’s alarmed voice.

When he saw the panic on his husband’s face, he froze.

“What’s wrong with your chest?”

Daryl glanced down. His chest and abdomen were covered in angry, red patches. And they hurt. A lot. He winced as Paul gently touched one.

“Fuck I don’t know, I… they weren’t there before”, Daryl babbled as Paul shot off his lap and went to grab his phone. He began rapidly typing a Google search into it.

“Okay, okay”, he mumbled as he scrolled through the search results, “This says to take your temperature”

Before Daryl could blink, Paul had dashed back into the kitchen and returned with the thermometer. He stuck it in Daryl’s ear without warning, waiting for it to beep, then paled at the reading.

“103. _Fuck._ Okay, um…how’s your breathing? Try and take a deep breath in”

Daryl tried, but the tightness in his throat and chest constricted it before he’d even inflated his lungs halfway.

“I can’t. Paul…think I need to go to the emergency room”, he called through to the other man, who had disappeared into the hall.

“Way ahead of you”, Paul shouted, scurrying back to throw Daryl’s boots at him.

***

The movement of the speeding car made Daryl’s increasingly foggy mind spin. He was trying hard to ignore the shortness of breath he felt as they neared he hospital.

Suddenly, his stomach lurched.

“Paul, _stop!”_

Paul slammed on the brakes and pulled over, just in time for Daryl to fling open the passenger door and throw up on the ground next to it. He heaved a few more times, and panted for breath when he was done.

As he leaned back in and closed the door, Paul gasped.

“Your neck is swelling”, he whispered before he reached over and gripped Daryl’s hand for a moment, before he shook himself and pulled back into traffic with an impressive screech.

The next few minutes felt like hours to Daryl; as it became harder to breathe, his heart rate increased along with his fear.

He could die. It was rare to die from an allergic reaction, but this was an extreme one. He could _die._

He looked over at his husband, tears in his eyes.

“Paul…”

“I know, it’s okay, almost there, baby. Less than a mile now”

“I love you”

Wide eyes met his for a millisecond before they returned to the road.

“Don’t you _dare_. You’re going to be fine. It’s just an allergic reaction”

“Don’t look so good, though”, he spoke through gasps. It was definitely getting harder to inhale.

“ _Stop being so dramatic._ We’re almost there, one last turn and…we’re here!”

Black spots began to appear in the corners of Daryl’s vision as he saw the large _‘EMERGENCY ROOM’_ sign lit up before them.

“Paul…I love you”

“No! Just, wait…hang on…”

Through closed eyes, Daryl felt himself being dragged from the car by several pairs of hands. He barely registered Paul shouting his details at the doctors before he lost consciousness.

***

Repetitive beeping invaded Daryl’s ears as his other senses became stronger. The first sensation he noticed was the heavy _ache_ in his chest, throat and abdomen _._ It felt like he’d been crushed by a truck.

Tentatively, he opened his eyes and, once they’d adjusted, he took in his surroundings. After a quick scan of the room, his view was obstructed by a stunning face.

“Daryl! Oh my god, you’re awake, you’re okay! Can you hear me?”

Blinking, Daryl nodded, not trusting his sore throat.

“Oh god. I forgot, you might not be able to speak properly for a while, they um…they had to put a tube down your…” Daryl watched in horror as his husband’s face crumpled and sobs wracked his body.

“Paul…”he tried to rasp.

Paul’s breath hitched, “Don’t t-try to talk…I’m so _sorry_. It’s all my fault, I was the one who-who insisted on lobster, I—“

“ _Stop”_

With a strong effort, Daryl swung his left arm out to pull Paul until he slumped into Daryl’s side. He held him through his sobs until he calmed down enough to take a breath.

“It…weren’t…your…fault…baby”, Daryl croaked, “Ain’t…no way…you coulda known”

Paul pulled back to cup his husband’s face.

“How are you feeling?”

“Tired…achy”

“Yeah, they said you’d feel that way for a few days, because you, uhm, stopped breathing…for a little bit”

Paul cleared his throat loudly.

“Stop…I’m breathing now” Daryl’s voice became a tiny bit stronger with each word, “Everything’s fine now”

“Easy for you to say! You weren’t the one driving your sick husband to the ER as he tried to tell you a final goodbye, like you were in some shitty second act of an action movie”

Paul’s eyes blazed with anger, but Daryl stayed unrepentant.

“For a minute, I thought I was gonna die. You really think I wasn’t gonna have my last words be I love you?” He muttered.

“Fucking sap. Next time, just focus on trying to breathe”

“Next time?!”

The two smiled softly at each other for a moment, before Paul pushed back and stood.

“I’d better go find your nurse, let them know you’re awake”

Once he’d reached the door, Daryl grated out, “Next year, let’s just have steak for dinner”

Paul didn’t look back, but raised his middle finger.

Daryl’s chuckle hurt like a bitch, but it was worth it.

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments always welcome!


	19. Stuck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meet-cute in an elevator.
> 
> I realised this is one of many chapters of this set in or around a hospital- I promise it'll the last one!

“Come on, come on…”

The traffic light turned green and Paul peeled forward at top speed, overtaking and undertaking other drivers, making enemies. He hoped none of them followed him to the hospital; he didn’t want to be arrested for fighting on the day of his Godson’s birth.

When he’d got the call that Maggie was in labour, he had tried to get out of work early, but Gregory had to be a perpetual asshole. So, he settled for showering the new-born and his mother with the $60 worth of flowers and balloons on his backseat.

He couldn’t wait.

*

“Tell Chinaman I said congrats! But make sure he knows it’s only 2 weeks paternity!”

“For the last time, he’s Korean”

“You know I only say it to bust his balls!”

“He ain’t even here! I’ll pass on your loving message, don’t worry”

“See ya, Darlina”

Shaking his head, Daryl hopped onto his bike and pulled out of the garage, his stomach twisted with excitement.

He was going to meet his Godson.

*

_Why do bad things happen to good people?_

Paul sighed as the entrance door to the hospital closed in his face; the charming woman who hadn’t bothered to wait and help didn’t look back as he shouted a sarcastic ‘Thank you!’ through the glass.

Juggling the four bouquets and cluster of balloons in one hand, he carefully hooked the door open and scurried in before he dropped the goods.

As he reached the elevators and pressed the button, he blew a few loose hairs from his face, frustrated. Visiting hours ended at 9.30, so he only had an hour and a half with the new addition to the Rhee family before he returned home to his shitty apartment, alone.

Sighing away his self-pity, he stepped into the newly arrived elevator and chose the maternity floor.

“Shit, wait! Hold the elevator!”

In a panic, Paul kicked out with his right leg and forced his foot into the gap between the closing doors, stopping them. He sighed in relief as they reopened, to reveal his walking wet dream.

The man before him was clearly a biker, based on the helmet in his hand, and the vest and boots; but, the soft, messy brown hair, gentle eyes and natural smirk said much more. 

After a few seconds of intense eye contact, the other man joined him in the cramped space, unabashedly checking Paul out as he did so.

Paul felt himself preen under the attention, and silently wished he could spend longer looking at the other man as the doors closed behind him.

_Be careful what you wish for._

*

Jesus Christ.

Daryl bit his lip to stop anything stupid coming out of his mouth. He saw his fellow passenger blush at the sight.

The man stood on the opposite side of the box was a stunning example of the best that evolution and biology had to offer. His piercing eyes, the cheekbones, and that _jawline._ Daryl was almost sad that it was partially covered by the styled stubble. _Almost._

He internally kicked himself when he realised how obvious he’d been, checking out the gorgeous stranger.

_Be calm._

“Thanks for holding the doors for me”

“No problem, which floor?” the beautiful man smiled, and it was as if the sun had risen within the enclosed space.

_Jesus. Act cool, Dixon._

"Uhh...post-natal, I think?"

The stranger nodded and settled back into his corner; Daryl noticed the button for his floor was already lit and relaxed, happy to spend as much time as he could with him.

“So…come here often?”

_What? What the fuck was that?_

Daryl winced when the other man let out a confused huff of laughter.

“To the hospital? Um, thankfully no? I’m just visiting my friends- they had a baby today, my Godson, actually. Hence all this stuff”

It was only then that Daryl noticed the armada of flowers and helium balloons surrounding the man.

“Oh shit! Me too. Proud day for both of us, congrats!”

“Yeah, you too! God, I can’t wait to meet little He—“

The lights shut off suddenly as the box lurched to an unexpected halt. After a few moments, they returned, dimmed to almost darkness, but there was no other sign of life from the machine.

Daryl turned to meet wide eyes, and felt his heart sink.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me”

*

Paul carefully set down the gifts in the corner, before punching the emergency call button several times.

To his right, the sexy biker had produced a cell phone and was attempting to find a signal.

“ _Maintenance. What’s the problem?”_

“Yes, hi! Um, there are two of us trapped in this elevator- I think it’s broken down between floors”

There was a pause.

“ _Okay, sir, I can see it’s had a fault light come on. Just bear with me, and I’ll get it up and running again in no time”_

“Okay, thanks, can you just try and be quick please, because we’re both—“the intercom shut off as the engineer hung up.

Paul glanced at the stranger next to him.

“Any luck getting a signal?”

“Nah. This thing’s like a damn Faraday cage”

Both of them smirked at each other for a second before Paul gracefully slid down to sit cross-legged next to his stuff.

The other man copied his actions, with much less finesse, but nonetheless, still sexy.

The two sat in silence for a few minutes, while the biker fiddled with his cell phone some more, before he shoved it back into his pocket with a sigh. He caught Paul’s eye and gave a small smile.

“You said your friends just had the one baby?” He asked.

“Yeah, why?”

“Just wondering why you got half a florist’s stock next to you”

Paul chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Yeah…I kinda went overboard. But, in my defence, it’s not every day your best friend brings life into the world”

“True. So is your bestie the mom or dad?”

“The mom. She and I have known each other…god, going on 14 years now. Since college”

“Jeez, don’t make me feel _too_ old, shit”

Paul tilted his head.

“How old are you, then?”

“…46”

“Well, you look really good for that age, I never would’ve guessed it”

The stranger’s eyes darkened enough that Paul had to clear his throat and look away before he did something foolish.

“What about you? Was it friend or family having the baby?”

“Friends. One of my best friends, he works with me. One of the best guys you’ll ever meet; coulda knocked me down with a feather when he told me they’d chosen me as one of the kid’s Godfathers”

“ _One_ of?”

“Yeah, another friend of theirs- I somehow ain’t met him over the years of knowing them both, but they couldn’t choose between us, so they picked both. Which is fine by me, we’re all gonna love that little guy more than anything anyway”

“Very diplomatic” Paul smirked.

“Think you got me beat on making a good first impression to _my_ Godson with all those damn flowers, though. Dick”

Their laughter turned to startled gasps as the lights flickered back to full brightness and the elevator juddered to life.

The other man sprung up with surprising speed, before he held out a helping hand for Paul. Electricity shot up his arm at the contact as he took it, reluctant to let go even once he was standing.

*

Daryl’s mind was in overdrive. He still had hold of the younger man’s hand, who didn’t look to be in a hurry to let go anytime soon.

They stared at each other, unblinking, for several moments, until Daryl felt himself swaying forward instinctively, closing the distance between them without being able to help it.

_What are you doing?_

If his elevator buddy found this intimidating, he didn’t show it. Daryl was shocked to see him creeping forward, too.

_You don’t even know his name, yet._

Just inches between them, inches from what Daryl was sure would be the best kiss of his life so far; hopefully the best _night_ of his life, if he had anything to--

“Oh! Sorry!”

The men jumped apart, hands dropping, as they spun to see a startled, and confused nurse waiting in front of the open doors.

_When had they reached their floor?_

The stunning man coughed and turned to snatch up the plethora of gifts, while Daryl stammered out a half-apology and exited the area at a fast pace.

He chanced a glance back halfway down the hall, hoping to catch one last look at the object of many dreams to come, and was startled to find him following right behind, his eyes on _Daryl’s_ behind.

“Oh, sorry!” He froze, looking up as he blushed, “Do you um, do you know how to get onto the ward?”

“Uh, think it’s up this way… want help carrying those?”

“I’m good, thanks”, he received another blinding smile in response, and stumbled along after the other man in a daze.

When they reached their destination, a friendly face with a kind smile appeared from behind the desk.

“Evening, Gentlemen! I’m assuming you’re both here to visit someone?”

Both nodded.

“Great! Visiting hours end in about an hour, just so you know. Can I get the name of the patient you’re visiting, please?”

“Maggie Rhee”

Daryl’s head snapped to the right as his answer was echoed back to him. There was a matching, shocked expression on his companion’s face.

The oblivious nurse had turned to the wall chart.

“Okiedokie- Mrs Rhee is in Room C, which is just down that hall there, third door on the left! If you need any more help, you can find me round the corner, at the Nurse’s Station”

Left alone, an awkward silence followed.

“So, um…you said you work with Glenn?”

Daryl nodded.

“That would make you Daryl, or Merle?”

“Daryl. Daryl Dixon. Um, you must be Maggie’s college roommate, Jesus?”

“Um, yeah, but it’s just Paul. Paul Rovia. Mags has been calling me that since Freshman year, on account of the long hair and beard I had back then”

“Yeah, she mentioned that about you, before” Daryl smiled.

“Hey, I rocked that look”

“I don’t doubt it”

Paul winked at him as they wandered in the direction of Maggie’s room.

“So, you’re the other Godfather I’ve gotta compete with?”

“Seems like it. Although, it won’t be a competition, we'll both love and spoil that boy equally, Dixon”

“Hard to feel comforted by that when you’re literally carrying _four_ bouquets and three helium balloons, and all I got is myself”

They paused in front of the door.

“I don’t know, just you seems pretty good to me”

“If you really think so, you should let me go in first; let them at least say hi to me before they get won over by all this colourful charm you've brought with you”

“Fine with me, and I'll have you know, I'm plenty charming without all this” Paul stepped aside. Daryl paused before he pushed the door open and glanced back.

“Don’t think I don’t know the only reason you’re letting me go first is to look at my ass. I caught you staring back there”

“Well, it is a nice ass, shame it can’t be seen all the time”

Daryl decided to be brave.

“Don’t worry, after today, I’m thinking you’re gonna be seeing it a hell of a lot”

“Oh yeah?” Paul gave a wicked smile.

“Definitely” Daryl winked before he disappeared through the door, leaving Paul half-hard and biting his lip at the view as he went.

_Maybe he wouldn’t be alone in his apartment, later, after all._

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments welcome!

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments welcome! :)


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